August 26th, 2014


I’m on instagram: @tkowkat 

August 24th, 2014

I’d like a lover to lay my hands upon. Not in ownership, but in praise.
I’d like a lover that sees stars in my eyes and fire in my soul.
I’d like a lover who is strong within himself and his desires.
I’d like a lover who doesn’t mind my occasional curses and laughs at my bad jokes.
I’d like a lover with a good heart who can hold his own with my mother.
I’d like a lover who can laze for hours, or go toe to toe on a project with me.
I’d like a lover that I can daydream about his mouth and hands. 
I’d like a lover to lay down next to in the evenings, and wake up intwined.
I’d like a lover to steal his shirts and find comfort in his scent with mine.
I’d like a lover who sees a woman, not a girl.
I’d like a lover who pushes and pulls. Who demands that I hold myself and him to a higher standard.

I’d like a lover who’s more than a lover. 

August 21st, 2014

The prettiest thing I ever did see, saving for a special occasion. 

August 21st, 2014

I did a small bit of yoga this morning on the beach, then I looked up and saw this. 

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

August 21st, 2014

I woke up this morning and went to the beach, except for the very sporadic walker, the beach felt like it belonged to me, and me to it.

From my instagram @tkowkat

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

August 18th, 2014

The college students are moving back into town, a mark that summer’s over. And… most of my friends have noticed I haven’t had any sort of fling or open attraction. A small mistaken attraction to a man with a soft looking mouth and a deep heart, severed quickly when I realized perhaps I was letting attraction rule over common sense. 

I suppose meeting the quarter century mark has come with some maturity. Or, I’ve already exhausted any thought of meeting a relatively hygienic, atheistically, intellectually and emotionally stimulating male. 

Six years in this town, many dates, many late night smooch sessions, many awkward first dates, and great other dates. Accidental arm touching, and purposeful butt squeezing. A couple boyfriends, a ton of friends.

Two summers in New York City, with lovely kind men, who are sweet on the eyes, and sweet on your lips. Many kind and beautiful friends to adventure with, to mistake and make memories with. A fall and winter in Philadelphia, mooning after raw denim clade men with long legs and hips that make me thing of tangled sheets. With bespectacled men who passed me on my lunch break in old city neighborhoods. A winter romance with a man who had scarred hands but an even more scarred heart, who held onto anger from 15 years prior. A light flirtation with a troubled soul who has found a direction but no sense of decision. 

I, I suppose, have given up storing my love and affection in men who aren’t substantial. I’m done attempting to build something with someone who doesn’t have the tools, nor the time. I won’t settle. 

I’m self sustaining. I flirt, and play witty talking games. I admire physique, and style. I admire mouths that tilt, and eyes that convey humor. I dodge sketchy situations, and tell off men who become too forward. I return to my bed alone. I have stopped hanging hopes on the moon. Handsome, charming, divinely attentive men. Oh, you champions of tricks. Speaking of my lush bottom lip, or how lovely the curve of my hips in the navy or black I wear. I tell my lust, settle, lay my hand over my heart. It’s not worth it, not worth letting someone really close to me, body and soul. A pledge that courage and strength in love is rewarding. 

I’m more interested in writing, or reading.  Spending time with friends who laugh and cheer, who dance and jest. Dating is asinine. It is obscene, and a fraud. Be friends with your lover, and if you can’t then why the hell are you with them?

August 5th, 2014

Slower morning. Sorting through my clothing, drinking a big jar of water, better tasting coming from crisp glass. Eat a tomato like an apple. Surrounded by a mess. Take a shower, sigh and squeak when the hot water hits the sensitive lower part of your back, where it dips in. 

Admire your feet and shoulders, the way your hands move, creating suds with the rolling of your fingers over the bar of soap. Peppermint. Steamy mirror. Lacy bra under a utilitarian sports version, cut offs, sleeveless tee.

Preparations for another day painting walls in a building that has housed families, doctors and servants, and then years and years later college students who don’t care about sealed up arched doorways, or original woodwork, hardwood floods hidden under bad carpet that acts as armor against cheap college furniture and couches that get abandoned. 

Bones of a building. Bones of a body. Not so different in the morning, noon or night. 

July 29th, 2014

Came home to find these beautiful pieces all wrapped in brown packing paper and tied with twine. Thank you so much Brian of tree totable​ I can’t wait for them to find their place in my kitchen. Check out his store here:

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

July 25th, 2014

My life of late, to see what I’m doing day to day, place to place, check out my instagram @tkowkat. 

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

July 17th, 2014

Last week, I went on an adventure to a cheesemaker’s milk house, and it was interesting and wonderful. Huge thanks to my friend and the owner Stefanie for letting me come and visit the Valley Milkhouse at the Covered Bridge Farm. 

July 10th, 2014

In real life lately: Enabling friends to buy plants, afternoon light in the publishing house, haul from Eckerton Hill, coffee table goodies, and a head of romaine frizzed with homemade vinaigrette dressing. 

July 10th, 2014

I’m a Eucalyptus mom. Find me posting all my plant babes over on instagram: @tkowkat.

July 5th, 2014

Being a one woman construction crew, with the exception of occasional help from my mum & pops, and Mike for lending me the tools I needed.

I’ve ripped out a drop ceiling, a particle board ceiling, pulled hundreds of nails, de-mounted a 20 foot long piping system that weighs about 300lbs, scrubbed, scraped and brushed a brick wall over and over and over again, scrubbed & hosed down a cement floor, wrestled painted shut windows, chased wires, and cut my hands & arms up more than I’d like to admit. Always keeping in mind, under that rubbish rug is a hardwood floor waiting for a bit of TLC. Not just yet, though that’ll be the last thing. Pushing myself a little harder each time I go down there, because this is my future. 

Here’s to being an extreme DIYer. Now, I just wish I had a beer. 

July 4th, 2014

You can tell me over and over that you love me. 
"I love you."
You can tell me in smiles, in the way your arm wraps around my waist.
"You look so beautiful."
How it fits me perfectly to your side.
You can tell me each time we’d wake up in the morning
"You know, I love you today."
You can tell me you love me when you look at me from behind the bar.
"Can I get you another drink" and I would shake my head no. 
You can slide your hand from my knee up and grin at me. 
"You are pretty." Your tone surprised.
I know your heart and your eyes are telling me how much you love me.

I know you still love me, but you never wanted to grow.
"You’re young, you’ll figure it out."
I know you still love me, but you didn’t remember my goals.
"She.. well, she.. Sweetheart, what do you do?"
I know you still love me, because at 3:30am you texted me.
"You are so lucky to be as beautiful as you are.
I know you still love me, because your father looks at me and nods.
"Whatever happens, know you’re a good one."
I know you still you love the way I was there, to hug and hold, to fall asleep on.
"You’re my human pillow." with a bark of a laugh

I know you loved my lips, and my hips. 
But there’s more to it than that.
I wanted it all.
I wanted the ugly, the rough, I wanted it all.
I didn’t give my all, the ugly and rough, because I knew the love you had for me was in smiles, and kisses.
In how soft and loving my touch was.
How my laugh echoed around your apartment.
How I worked hard to make sure you knew I could provide if you provided back.
You didn’t provide any nurture to my soul, my bear, my beast of a man.

It broke, and wore away, but only for me.
Because, I know you still love me. 
Whatever that means for you. 

A website dedicated to the things that inspire a young woman with a good head on her shoulders, an overactive imagination and a constant question on her mind: what kind of woman is she?